


Kiss, Kiss

by AkuChibi



Series: Bad Luck and Trouble [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Betrayal, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, He goes by Atty, Introspection, M/M, No sex but other stuff, Reyes stealth-dates Ryder, Romance, Scott's name is Atticus here, So many kisses, They're both idiots in love and you can't convince me otherwise, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2018-10-17
Packaged: 2019-08-03 08:37:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16322882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkuChibi/pseuds/AkuChibi
Summary: Their relationship is a series of kisses - both meaningful and meaningless, and Atty lost himself somewhere along the way.Read tags.





	Kiss, Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I was half-asleep and tired as hell, sick with a cold and just generally out of it. I don't remember writing half of it. I don't know where this came from but I wanted some one-shots and angst and my other stories don't really lend well to it - so here we are, a whole new Ryder to entertain myself with. Oh, how fun. 
> 
> Meet Atticus "Atty" Ryder and Reyes Vidal - two unfortunate souls who have a troubled romance together. I love them both. 
> 
> This is probably all over the place and terrible, but fuck it. 
> 
> Enjoy? Comment? I really love those <3 But this is shitty so... you know.

The first time they kiss, it doesn’t mean anything.

They need a distraction or the guard is going to question what they’re doing in Sloane’s storage room – which is something he’d like an answer for himself, but even he knows when to pick his battles. So he presses his lips to Reyes’s like he means it, folds himself into the smuggler’s surprisingly receptive body, and for a long moment, the two remain like that. The guard sees them, suspects sexual intent, and quietly leaves them to it because this is Kadara and apparently that’s acceptable here – to just _do it_ in a storage room that’s off-limits.

It drags a response out of him that is purely scientific in eagerness. He wants to test this theory – it leaves him breathless with eager anticipation, and he quickly stomps it down in favor of sharing sarcastic quips with Reyes even as he demands an explanation.

The first time they kiss, it means nothing. It’s innocent – until suddenly it’s not.

xXx

The second time they kiss, it’s Reyes who initiates it. They’re watching a Kadaran sunset a few days later, enjoying the whiskey Reyes stole from Sloane – _though Atty knows it wasn’t his only reason for being in her storage room, even if Reyes thinks he isn’t aware of his shady ulterior motives_ – and they’re talking about why they came to Andromeda.

“I had nothing left in the Milky Way,” Atty admits with a small wince, the pain lingering like a freshly opened wound even now, 600 years after the fact. His mom died, his career was over, and since he couldn’t pay rent thanks to losing his job – _thanks to his dad’s refusal to bury an infamous project_ – he was going to lose his apartment, too. His whole life – over, just like that.

So he had to get away. They all did. Coming to Andromeda was supposed to be a fresh start.

It’s not.

His father’s dead now, too, and his sister’s in a coma. Nothing is right, everything is wrong, and if he lets himself think about it too long he’s going to fall apart. So he smiles and takes a long swig of the whiskey before handing it back to Reyes.

“What about you?” he asks. “Why’d you come to Andromeda?”

The Andromeda Initiative doesn’t seem very _Reyes_ to him. Though, he hasn’t known the smuggler long – a few short months of doing odd jobs here and there together. They joke, and flirt, but it’s all meaningless. Harmless.

“I wanted to be someone,” Reyes admits, and it’s the most open and honest he’s been with Atty since they’ve met. There’s something timid in his eyes, a hesitance to the way he presses the bottle to his lips, an eagerness to his swallows – as though he wants to drown away this conversation.

Atty blinks at him, attempting to comprehend this one honest moment. Because he knows, deep down, that Reyes Vidal is a man of secrets – a man of lies. He should find that particularly off-setting, especially considering his father’s secrets and lies… but he doesn’t. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. His father lied a lot, and now here he is, getting friendly with a man who spends his entire life lying to people.

 _Just friends,_ Atty thinks. They’re just friends. It’s all innocent. It means nothing.

He offers a small, warm smile, as thanks for Reyes’s attempt at opening up to him. It means a lot. “You’re someone to me,” he tells him, mostly to say, _I see you. I hear you. You’re real to me._

Sometimes, people just need the reminder that they matter – especially when living somewhere like Kadara.

And then Reyes is kissing him. Kissing him spontaneous, without the excuse that they needed to distract someone. For a moment, Atty flails in confusion before his body instinctually knows what to do, even as his mind struggles to catch up.

The kisses merge together, one after the other.

It’s still meaningless, though. They’re both more than a little drunk, and emotions can run high sometimes. It’s just stress, he tells himself. Just nerves.

It means nothing.

xXx

The third time they kiss, Atty emerges from the _Tempest_ looking to follow a lead in the badlands, but he’s instead greeted by a familiar smuggler. Reyes melds with the shadows and steps out only when SAM alerts him of his presence and he looks that way. He smiles, and his body is all smooth movements and angles, like a cat stalking its prey.

There’s a look in his eyes – a hunger in his gaze.

For just a moment, Atty can’t help but think that he’d be grateful to be the prey in this instance.

And then Reyes’s mouth is on him, kissing him.

No alcohol, no distractions to blame it on.

It just happens.

One minute Atty is saying hello, a standard greeting – and the next, Reyes invades his personal space like he was always meant to be there, cups Atty’s face in both hands, and kisses him.

Long and lingering.

He pulls back with a satisfied hum. “Huh,” he says, like that solves everything. His hands drop and he spins away, walking away a few steps before he looks back over his shoulder to smirk at Atty. “I have a job for you.”

Atty stares after him. At this strange man who thinks he can just kiss him and then just go about business as usual, no explanation given.

_Well, fine._

It doesn’t mean anything anyway, he tells himself. Reyes is just being Reyes. It means nothing.

They flirt all the time – it’s harmless. Meaningless.

It’s _fine_.

xXx

The fourth time they kiss, Atty’s about to leave Kadara. He’s walking down Kadara Ports darkly lit streets, already making plans to depart and visit Voeld.

When he rounds a corner and sees the ship, Reyes is there waiting for him.

He doesn’t say anything. He just steps, once again, into Atty’s personal space, kisses him until he’s breathless, and says nothing.

There’s only the sound of their shared breathing as Reyes rests his forehead briefly – so briefly – against Atty’s, and then he’s stepping away like it never happened.

Atty stares after him, confused beyond words.

“Be careful,” Reyes throws over his shoulder, but he doesn’t turn around.

Atty enters his ship, struggling to make sense of everything.

It still means nothing. Maybe that’s just how smugglers say goodbye and hello these days – who the fuck knows? Certainly not Atty.

xXx

He returns to Kadara a week later because Vetra needs a few items from the market. Smuggler business, she says when he pries. He doesn’t need to get involved. So he doesn’t.

He’s barely off the ship before Reyes is there. This time there’s a hand on his wrist, guiding him into the shadows, away from prying eyes – and then there’s a hot, eager mouth on his.

Arousal burns through him. Fuck, Reyes is eager today. Greedy with his mouth – his hot, hungry mouth.

He stops when Atty’s sufficiently breathless. Smiles at him, like he’s won something – all smug and everything… and then he just pulls away. Like it didn’t happen.

Atty’s head spins. “What is going on with you?” he demands, scowling at the smuggler.

Reyes just grins at him. “I’m just happy to see you,” he says.

It’s open and honest and everything Atty’s not prepared to handle. He expected some lame response – some lie thrown at him with a smug tone. Instead, he’s given _this_. How the hell is he supposed to make sense of this? Handle this?

“You just saw me a week ago,” Atty tells him, because it’s all he can think to say in that moment. “I’m not _that_ accident prone.”

Reyes chuckles. A low, quiet hum in the back of his throat, pleasant and… _arousing_.

It’s a unique sound that goes straight to Atty’s cock. Really, Reyes has _no right_ to doing this to him – making him feel this way. Sounding all suave and sexy like that. No right _at all_ because this is all _meaningless_.

He’s really going to have to ask SAM about smuggler customs on Kadara to make sense of things. Maybe he’ll even break down and ask Vetra, but she might just laugh at him. Nah, better to ask SAM.

He watches Reyes walk away, like always.

He brushes it off, like always.

xXx

The sixth time they kiss, it’s entirely Atty’s fault.

He’s just had a brush with death – killed an _Architect_ of all things, and he’s running high on adrenaline and fumes. He knows he’s exhausted, but the minute he lets the adrenaline fade is the minute he collapses, and he’s not back on the ship yet.

So he rides that high as long as he can.

It just so happens he sees Reyes on his way back to the ship.

_Two can play this game._

He’s in a good mood, and Reyes has that smug grin on his face like always, so Atty steps into _his_ personal space and kisses him. Soft and chaste, a wordless expression of his euphoria right now – but when he tries to walk away like Reyes always does, there’s suddenly hands on him.

He doesn’t remember getting backed into a corner. He doesn’t remember his back hitting a wall, or those hands holding him there.

He just knows he’s lost count of the kisses because they’re all blurring together, and Reyes alters between kissing him silent and mouthing his neck to make him squirm and moan.

It’s a push an pull, a duality of sensations, and for a moment Atty’s lost to them.

When he comes back to himself, Reyes is stepping away, smug smirk in place. He leaves without a word, and Atty returns to the ship.

It’s only later he notices the large hickey on his neck, just visible over the line of shirt collar.

That sneaky bastard.

xXx

He doesn’t know what kiss it is, only that he initiates it.

He meets Reyes in the smuggler’s back room in Tartarus. They have work to discuss. Just work.

Simple enough.

Except the moment he sees the smuggler, sees that crease to his brow, sees the data pad held tight in his hand – he just wants to smooth away the worry. He wants to wipe that look off his face however he can.

So he steps into his personal space – _like that’s where he belongs_ – and kisses him.

Reyes drops the data-pad on the table. Shoves Atty over and then moves to straddle him, forever kissing him.

 _Oh,_ Atty has just enough to think, _we’re doing this now._

He’s never gotten a blow-job in a bar’s back room before.

Somewhere along the way, he lost all sense of _meaning_.

The lines are blurred. What holds meaning and what doesn’t, anymore? What is Reyes’s game?

Right now, he thinks it’s okay if he gets played.

At least he’s enjoying it.

xXx

Atty’s hurt.

Everything aches and he can’t see out of his swollen right eye. Lexi works to fix the swelling and sends him to his quarters with strict instructions to sleep and take something for the pain if he needs it. He has two cracked ribs and a black eye, after all – it’s bound to be painful. Not to mention the splitting headache.

This is why it’s a bad idea to come to Kadara, he tells himself. _Why do you keep coming here?_

A lot of people don’t like him. Sloane hates him, probably has a bounty of some kind on his head for helping Vehn Terev escape her custody – _even if she can’t prove it was him that freed him_ – and don’t even get him started on the Collective and their infamous Charlatan.

He doesn’t know much about the person, or group of people, leading the Collective but the less he knows the better. It all seems so secretive, so shady, and he’s had more than enough of his share of Kadaran politics, thank you very much.

He just wants to sleep for a day.

He strips to his sleep shorts and lays down.

A minute later there’s alarms going off on the ship.

Someone’s trying to break in.

For a minute, Atty’s alarmed – _who the hell is trying to break into my ship and why_ – but calms when SAM informs him it’s Reyes, demanding to be let in, threatening to hack it if he has to.

Atty almost snorts at the thought. Why the hell is getting on the ship suddenly so important to the smuggler?

Nevertheless, he tells SAM to let Reyes in.

A moment later, the door to his quarters opens.

Reyes storms in, wild eyes finding Atty easily. He stalks closer, fingertips stretching, reaching to brush gently across the purple patchwork of bruises along his left side. The touches are feather-light. They should hurt nevertheless, but somehow they don’t.

Atty has never seen Reyes be so gentle.

“You’re hurt,” Reyes says, brows furrowed like that bothers him.

“I’m okay,” Atty tells him, because he really is. Sure, he’s bruised, but they’ll heal on their own. He’s okay.

“Who hurt you?” Reyes demands, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

“Just some outlaws in the badlands,” Atty tells him, shrugging dismissively, even if that movement pulls sharply at his injured ribs. “Nothing to worry about. I took care of them.”

A darkness falls over Reyes’s face. “Good,” he says, in a tone which hints that if they weren’t already dead – _they would be when Reyes got his hands on them._

It’s a worrisome thought, but not because it promises certain violence.

Because it muddies the blurry line between _meaningless_ and _meaningful_.

“Why are you here?” Atty asks.

Reyes steps closer, into his personal space.

For a moment, Atty doesn’t even realize he’s _in_ his personal space. It’s like he _does_ belong there – it feels so natural, having him so close.

“I heard you were hurt,” Reyes says quietly, and then there are lips on his, again.

This time the kisses are fevered but gentle – feather-light, just like his touches.

Like Atty will break if he applies too much pressure.

_Oh, hell no. I’m not made of glass._

He steps forward. Yanks Reyes sharply toward him, and melds their mouths together in a fierce, heated kiss.

Then there are hands on him. Above and below him. Just everywhere.

It’s the first time he’s had a hand-job that wasn’t his own, in his quarters.

It’s when the line really gets blurred, and _fuck, I think this means something._

xXx

It doesn’t occur to Atty that they are, in fact, _dating_ until Reyes just announces it to everyone.

He walks onto the _Tempest_ casually and slips into the empty spot at Atty’s side in the kitchen as he’s preparing food. His presence isn’t distracting, isn’t disturbing even though he wonders why Reyes is there – it just feels natural.

_Like that’s where he belongs. Where they belong._

Then there are others in the room, witnessing Reyes _in his personal space_.

“Uh, kind of cozy there, aren’t you?” Liam asks, quirking a brow at them.

“What?” Reyes replies, smirking at him. “I can’t admire my boyfriend while he’s fixing… what the hell are you fixing, Atty?”

Atty looks up from the concoction of pasta sauce he’s making, and into Reyes’s eyes. His heart stutters at the smuggler’s words, and for a moment, he’s lost for words himself. He just stares back at him, and there’s a certain timidity in Reyes’s gaze that makes him ache to wipe that look from his face.

“Yeah,” he says, throwing his own smirk at Liam. “My boyfriend is admiring me.”

Dating came out of nowhere – but in hindsight, maybe it didn’t.

He just wonders when their anniversary is – when Reyes decided they were dating, so he can get the date right.

Because really, he should have _known_.

xXx

Atty doesn’t realize this kiss is their last until later.

In the moment, it’s a normal kiss on a normal day. He and Reyes spend time together in Reyes’s personal loft; Reyes kisses him goodbye – _like he’s been doing since the start_ – and then Atty slips away to return to his ship.

He doesn’t make it to his ship.

Instead he’s pulled away by some of Sloane’s men, at gunpoint.

The Charlatan has made their move, they tell him. Sloane needs him to play bodyguard and keep her safe while she meets with this Charlatan, because she can’t trust her own people right now. He’s neutral ground – loyal to neither her nor the Charlatan, so it will be easy to sway his loyalty with promises of a shiny new outpost here on Kadara, for the Initiative. Bridging gaps and all that.

So he goes.

“You look like you’re waiting for someone.”

It’s Reyes that steps out in the Charlatan’s place. Reyes who drops down, smirking smugly at the two of them.

“I didn’t come here to talk to some two-bit smuggler,” Sloane says, scoffing at Reyes’s mere presence. “I’m here to speak to the Charlatan.”

“They’re one in the same,” Atty says, voice thick with regret.

Because really, he should have _seen this coming_.

It all makes sense now.

All of it.

The blurring of the lines. It’s fixed.

It’s all meaningless, because Reyes is the Charlatan and has been using Atty this _whole time_. Using him to get his way, to do his dirty work doing odd jobs around Kadara, and he cuddled up to him to curry favor and get his way.

And it works.

Reyes wins the duel with Sloane Kelly because Atty doesn’t warn her about the hidden sniper. She falls over, dead, and Reyes steps over her fallen body like it doesn’t matter, telling his men to ‘prepare for celebrations. Kadara Port is ours tonight.’

It’s a mess. It’s too much.

Atty turns to leave.

Reyes stops him. A hand circling his wrist – fingers lightly touching, asking him to stay but not forcing him.

And like always, he stops. He turns to face the smuggler.

Lets the hurt show _everywhere_ – his eyes, his face, his frown. Sees the hesitation, the worry, on Reyes’s own face, but doesn’t care. Not in this moment.

Not when it was all a lie.

Not when it was all _meaningless_.

“Congrats, Charlatan,” Atty says, proud of how flat his voice sounds because inside he’s screaming. Screaming and raging and sobbing. _How could you do this to me? Why? Was it all a lie? Did it mean nothing to you? WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME…_ “You got everything you wanted.”

“Atty, no,” Reyes says, eyes wide. “No, no, no – you don’t honestly think-”

_I can’t do this right now._

“Have fun with Kadara, Vidal,” he says as he jerks his wrist free and spins on his heel away from Reyes. Over his shoulder, he tosses a flat, “guess you’re finally someone after all.”

_And then he leaves._

xXx

It’s their last kiss because it’s over.

It’s all over.

It was a lie all along.

None of it mattered. None of it meant anything. It was a trick.

Reyes used him to get Kadara Port for himself.

_It hurts._

xXx

The only thing he kisses for a long time are bottles of alcohol.

It doesn’t make him feel better, but it certainly can’t make him feel worse.

For a little while, it all blurs away. Kisses merge together – one then ten then none.

He wakes with a splitting headache and the taste of Reyes on his lips.

Then it’s back to the bottle again because at least when he’s wasted he doesn’t have to _remember_. He doesn’t have to _feel_.

xXx

Reyes sends him messages.

Many of them.

So many.

_\--Let me explain._

_\--Are you there? Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me. Grow up, Ryder._

_\--… I fucked up, didn’t I?_

_\--It’s been two weeks. Okay? I’m sorry. I AM SORRY. I should have told you._

_\--Are you okay? At least let me know you’re alive out there._

_\--…please?_

_\--I heard from my contacts. You’re alive. You’re just not answering me. How immature of you._

_\--At least break up with me to my face._

_\--No? Then we’re not broken up. You’ll have to answer me for that. You’re still tied to me, Atticus Ryder._

_\--That came out wrong, didn’t it?_

_\--Fuck, okay. I’m sorry. Would you please just answer me? You know I don’t say please but look, here I am, saying it. Please._

_\--Three weeks. Are you serious? You’re just going to avoid me forever?_

_\--…I should have told you. I know that. Answer me._

_\--I miss you. Okay? Are you happy now? I MISS YOU._

_\--I really wanted to have this conversation in person but since you won’t even give me that… then here it goes. I hope you don’t think this was all some lie, because it wasn’t. I didn’t lie about everything. You know me. I miss you. I hate how we left things. Could you just let me explain? Don’t I deserve that much, at least, for helping you with Terev?_

It’s that last one that gets to him.

Manipulating him like that. Throwing Terev in his face. Yes, Reyes helped him – but hasn’t he already repaid his debt? He let Reyes kill Sloane with a hidden sniper, after all.

Fuck. What’s he supposed to do?

_Outgoing Message:_

_To: Reyes Vidal_

_From: Atticus Ryder_

_Subject: Fine._

_I’ll be there in three days._

As much as he wants to stay away and forget about all the pain – he knows he can’t.

Because he needs answers.

He needs to know if any of it was real.

If any of those kisses _mattered_.

If _any_ of it mattered.

xXx

Reyes looks more troubled than usual. That crease is back in his brow, there are dark circles around his tired eyes, and he’s pale. He looks like he’s slept about as much as Atty has in the past few weeks – which isn’t much, and only thanks to a black-out from too much alcohol. It’s the only way he can sleep and _not_ dream of the smuggler and not feel the hurt all over again when he wakes up. He’d rather wake up with a searing migraine and hangover instead of that ache in his heart.

He wonders, idly, if it’s the same for Reyes.

But it doesn’t matter. It’s all meaningless. He has to remember that.

“I’ll hear your explanation on one condition,” he says, to start their talk.

Reyes surges forward at the sound of his voice, despite the fact he had eyes on Atty the moment he stepped off his ship.

Atty holds up a hand to stop him. Reyes stops, watching him – always watching him.

“Anything,” Reyes says.

It’s an open invitation. A promise.

But words mean nothing when coming from Reyes Vidal. Atty needs to remember that. He can’t let it happen again.

He smiles thinly. “I want that outpost Sloane promised us.”

“Done,” Reyes says quickly, without hesitation. “I would have given it to you anyway.”

Atty wants to believe that – but Reyes is a liar. He can’t.

“I wanted to tell you shortly after we met,” Reyes admits quietly, in the silence that follows. He nods toward a back alley, away from prying eyes, and Atty acquiesces only after a half-second pause of deliberation and doubt. Being alone with Reyes isn’t the wisest personal choice, but it’s the smart play here – they can’t be having this conversation out in the open.

So a dark back alley it is. He assumes Reyes has already swept the area and told people to ignore this part of Kadara Port; it would explain the lack of people surrounding the _Tempest_ this time. Usually people are eager to attempt to steal it or buy it, desperate to have such a ship for themselves. Cora usually fends them off. There’s also the angry mob he’d been expecting since he let Sloane die.

Let her die.

There’s no getting around that; he let it happen. He could have stopped it.

But what would the alternative be? Reyes’s death?

Reyes might be a liar, but somewhere along the way Atty fell hard.

It meant something to him, even if it never did to Reyes.

The thought of Reyes’s death, even now – hurts. An ache deep inside him, an image he’s quick to disperse because Reyes is alive and breathing right in front of him. It’s not okay, but at least he can breathe – just for a moment.

“Talk,” he says, when Reyes seems fit to just stare at him.

Reyes sighs. This deep, tired sound – defeated. His shoulders slump and he bites his lower lip indecisively. “I’m sorry,” he says finally, and his fingers twitch at his sides – his hand lifts, briefly, as though reaching for him, before it quickly drops back down as Reyes thinks better of the movement.

Good. Atty really doesn’t want to be touched right now. “So you’ve said.”

“I should have told you. I know that now. But I just…” Here he trails off, gaze skittering away – small and timid, hesitating.

“Just what?” Atty prompts, because he needs to know. It’s the only reason he’s here now – because he can’t start moving forward, can’t start _mending_ , until he hears it straight from Reyes… until he has even the smallest bit of closure.

“I liked the way you looked at me,” Reyes says. It’s so honest and open that for a moment it takes Atty by surprise – but he can’t let it get to him. He has to remember that nothing is real with Reyes. He can’t forget, not again. “Like I _mattered_. Like you saw _me_. I… didn’t want it to stop.”

For a moment, an uneasy silence spreads around them, thick and suffocating. Atty takes in a slow, shaky breath, staring at Reyes, who looks right back at him – all harsh edges and soft vulnerability in his eyes.

“But that did stop, didn’t it?” Reyes asks, like the answer might break him. It’s not fair, Atty thinks. It’s not fair for him to sound like that, use that tone against him, like Atty’s response actually _matters_. “I ruined everything.”

The laugh Reyes releases is broken – shattered. Like some small part of him has just fallen apart and the pieces are scattered, which is _wrong_.

 _Atty_ feels like that. Not Reyes. Reyes can’t feel like that because if he does then that means-

“I do this a lot,” Reyes says, like Atty isn’t having a mental breakdown. “Every time I get close to someone – _I ruin it_. That’s why I didn’t tell you. If I did, you would… you would look at me differently, and I _liked_ how you saw me, how you believed I could be better. But I ruined it by not telling you, didn’t I? Because you hate me now.”

The little tirade is so unlike Reyes that for a moment, Atty just stands there, staring at him – attempting to find his voice, find the right words, and make sense of the aching pieces that are his heart right now.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

It was never supposed to be like this.

It was just supposed to be a fling. Something to pass the time.

It meant _nothing_.

But somewhere along the way, it did mean something. To Atty. And maybe even to Reyes, too.

Somewhere along the way, those kisses started to matter.

They started _dating_. For Atty, it was real.

For Reyes…

“Somewhere along the way,” Reyes says quietly, almost bitterly, “what I wanted changed. I just wanted Kadara Port – for so long. But what good is having it when I can’t _share it with you?_ What good is being the king if I’m alone?”

There’s something inherently wrong with that statement, but in that moment Atty can’t find it in him to care.

He steps forward. Reyes watches him like a kicked puppy – big brown eyes and everything.

“Reyes…” he says softly – like so many times before, alone in his quarters or at Reyes’s loft.

Reyes’s whole body freezes – coiled and ready to strike. He remembers that stance – that hunger in his eyes. Remembers those hands on him, remembers those lips devouring his. His tongue flicks out to wet his suddenly dry lips, and Reyes’s eyes track the movement avidly.

“ _Atty_ ,” Reyes says – like a prayer.

It goes right to his heart, that voice, his name.

Another step closer. He’s right in front of Reyes now.

Reyes’s hands come up. Fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt, but don’t yank him forward like before. Instead they just curl there, tightly – hanging on. Hesitating.

“Forgive me,” Reyes murmurs.

Atty shudders at the voice, at the quiet words. “One condition,” he says.

Reyes’s eyes widen, like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “ _Anything_ ,” he says.

He meets Reyes’s eyes. Holds his gaze. Smiles.

“Kiss me.”

And then Reyes is on him. Hands pushing and clawing, dragging him closer but pushing him away. His back meets a wall. Reyes’s mouth is a hot hungry menace in all the right ways, and it’s been _so long_ …

It’s not their first kiss.

It’s not their last.

It’s somewhere in a long line of kisses and not-kisses, and Atty hopes it never ends.


End file.
